The Amaline Poems
by imriel452
Summary: The poetry of Artur Paendrag Tanreall, known to history as Artur Hawkwing, was thought lost during the War of the Hundred Years, yet during a reorganization of the Library of Cairhien, what could be the only copy of his poems were discovered, and
1. Author's Note

Author's Note:

The 'Amaline Poems' as they have become known to us, were a collection of mostly love poetry written by King Artur Paendrag Tanreall, the man now known to history as Artur Hawkwing, to his wife, Queen Amaline Paendrag Tagora. We say mostly, for one poem that survives, 'Loss', discusses the death of his firstborn son, Modair, who died in battle sometime during the Consolidation.

This collection of poetry was found during a reorganization of the Royal Library of Cairhien, a loose set of pages that were dispersed throughout another, exceedingly boring book. As far as we can tell, these may be the only copies of the 'Amaline Poems' in existence, although whether the Aes Sedai hold a copy maybe something we will never know.

The pages were badly damaged, and are going under restoration work at the moment. As each individual page is restored and transcribed, then the findings shall be published here.

I will wait, with baited breath, as the words of the High King emerge. I hope you will too.

By the Grace of the Light,

The Royal Librarian and Archivist,

The Court of Cairhien


	2. Amaline Poem 1

(Amaline Poem 1) - Real Title, Unknown

You emerge like a butterfly

Perfect formed, a pure creation

You speak with golden chimes on your tongue

And the very winds fall silent for you

With a single word you bind me with chains

Stronger than any Moreina steel

And as unbreakable as heartstone

Stay awhile, my beautiful butterfly

Spend your time here with me.

APT - for Amaline.


	3. Loss

Loss

You lie, body broken on bloodied ground

I beg, as I hold you in my arms,

Please, make just one single sound

Yet silence is all that I hear from you.

I was a fool, to bring you here

So far away from your family, your friends.

To those who come after, you may be

Just another death lain at my feet

All in the name of glory.

I would give every victory, every foot of land taken,

To hold you again.

All those words that I never spoke,

How can I make amends?

Did you die knowing how proud I was of you?

Or were your last breaths spent cursing me for your death?

You death, my son, will not be in vain.

Your name will be on my lips with every charge, and

Every blow of Justice in your name*

* Modair died in battle in FY959, when the Consolidation was almost complete. Some historians argue that the death of his son was the main factor, along with the poisoning of Amaline and their remaining children in FY961, behind 'The Black Years' or 'The Years of Silent Rage' which saw during the last few years of his campaign, a brutal war against those who fought against him, culminating, depending on the view of the historian, with the failed attempt to take the Aiel Waste, or the destruction of the Golden Lions in Aldeshar, which was the last country to be conquered by Hawkwing, and the most brutally dealt with. Many historians will side with the latter, as the final battle with the Golden Lions saw the death of General Culain, an Aldeshari by birth, but who had been brought up and raised in Shandalle with Artur Hawkwing, and remained close friends until the start of the Consolidation.

(Author's Note: A work of historical 'fiction' is currently being composed about the life of Artur Hawkwing as we speak. Watch out for more details.)


	4. Creation

_**Creation**_

_Is this how the Creator feels_

_When he creates new life?_

_As I hold out precious children in my arms,_

_Two forms, balanced in perfection in my eyes._

_Our children, my love, are to me_

_The purest thing I've seen._

_No greater love have I,_

_And I would give the throne, all of Shandalle,_

_To be the poorest farmer, with my family by my side._

_Returning from the Pass,_

_And seeing mothers and wives mourn_

_I feel guilty at being blessed so_

_With you at the Gates_

_Two swaddled babes in your arms_

_My heirs, my blood, our own creations_

_Living and breathing in your arms._


	5. To Amaline, from Nerevan

To Amaline, from Nerevan

You speak in whispers, soft

Yet drowning out the greatest sounds

Of those who would advise me.

A gentle touch commands my arm

Faster than any banner of horse.

I face my morns without you,

An empty bunk in a soldiers tent

As I face another march ahead

I wonder, my darling, how you fare?

Does life grow yet?

When I come home, will we be blessed?

Will a son or daughter greet me on my return?

Or will I return home to you alone, my wife?

I wish to be in your arms again

And face the state over a day in the saddle again.

Does the Creator know of his Creations?

If so, why does he roam free, Power at his fingers?

To end this tomorrow, a blessing 'twould be,

Yet I fear that I shall be parted from you longer.

Know that my love for you never fades, or withers

But grows, like a tree to the Sun, forever growing stronger

And blooming flowers and fruit forever more.

Librarian's Note: Whilst we do not have an accurate date for when this poem was written, we can make an accurate guess, due to various things mentioned within the poem itself.

We can accurately place this before the Spring of FY 942, due to the fact that, at the time of writing this poem, Artur and Amaline had not yet conceived a child.

From the title, 'To Amaline, from Nerevan', we can place the writing of this to between Summer and Autumn of FY 941, which was when we know he returned back to Shandalle to attend the burial of his uncle, who was co-regent of Shandalle along with Amaline when Artur was in the field against Amalasan.


End file.
